


Cabin Erasure

by Radiolaria



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Innuendo, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:05:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radiolaria/pseuds/Radiolaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I thought it was really confusing without…”<br/>“Without?!”<br/>The bowtied young man nodded, deadly serious. “And the actors would have turned it into utter nonsense.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cabin Erasure

**Author's Note:**

> This is utter crack. Because I miss team TARDIS and Cabin Pressure.
> 
> Timeline: the first part involves the Ponds on their Honeymoon, and a River post Big Bang. For the second part, everbody has done TWoRS.
> 
> Rory is purposefully unaccustomed to the TARDIS.

Rory: Can't find any sugar in here. How do you expect me to make...

Amy: Second cupboard on your right.

[duo temporal stabilisers ringing in the distance]

Rory: Thanks. No need to glare at me, I wasn't supposed to know... [sound of a cupboard opened] Holy mackerel! Surely you do not need that much sugar... Well, don't want to know. For all I care, it could be bone dust extracted from the last known specimen of jagarustok of the pink galaxy. [in fact, ragnagnok, but unless Ricky Attenborough is not available, there is no point in correcting it] I just don't want to know.

[leaves cupboard, louder crackers]

Amy: Sorry, you were talking in there, I couldn't hear a word. [crackers]

Rory: [pause] Well. How often do you go shopping? And more importantly, where do you get the...

[another pause only disturbed by the gentle crackly crisp of crackers crunching in the distance]

Rory: What's that?

Amy: [crackers] Crackers.

Rory: But they are, they are purple with sparkles in them. They are...

[crackers]

Amy: They are delicious, want some?

[biscuits snatched, Amelian growl]

Rory: I won't allow you to eat stuff from Mars. I'm a nurse. It's … unearthly.

[snatching again, Roman cry]

Amy: Are you kidding, he stole these from the kitchen of the Sultan of… something in cagnok [nearly there, Pond], never mind. It's delicatessen!

[coming from afar, velvety outraged voice]

The Doctor: What happened to those servants, do they need that much time to prepare tea?

River: They may be doing some extending work there; your marvelousness could do with an extra bathroom. It's getting crowded.

The Doctor: Fourteen bathrooms! What are you rambling on about? We're four! People don't need three and a half bathrooms each. [hesitates, and has a right to, since River already blasted two!] Do they?

River: No. But they need one without any squishy poisonous salamander in the tub.

The Doctor: But they are cute! [valuable interpretation guidance: they are]

River: And without 9th degree equations in gallifreyan on the shower curtain. [River is lying, I never write them there unless it’s at least an 11th degree]

The Doctor: But Riv...

River: I don't care, it's distracting.

The Doctor: From what ?

River: [pause] Never mind.

[River never pauses unless spoilers are involved, so I’m guessing the actress could add a ‘Spoiler’ here]

Amy: [in the distance] I hear them fighting. [shouts] Coming!

[footsteps and tray tinkling, console room]

The Doctor: More place, you ask? Your wish is a command. Rory, proceed to throw out of my ship that blasted daredevil bush-haired...

River: Bush-haired! You...

The Doctor: [aside] We can do with an hairdresser at home. [loud]... bush-haired of a criminal. No! There on the table. [sound of a tray put down on table] Rory! Do it! Then we can upgrade you to _primus pilus_. We can't waste that much space on hair.

Rory: I don't think that's quite shrewd.

The Doctor: You're right. Never liked the sound of it anyway, too much reminiscent of a sad clown's dog, which is … horrendously sad. [ ~~pouting~~ River, stay out of my script] Primus pilus. Primus. Pilus. Prrrrrrrimus pilus.

Amy: You know tea's being held on the edge of the wobbly tablish thing you called a table for quite a long time for a beverage supposed to be served hot. Does anybody want that tea?

The Doctor [ ~~taking his dreams for reality~~ was not!]: One of those big woolly ones with the bangs and you can't see the eyes.

Rory: Is he really talking about circus dogs?

River [smug]: Must remind him of someone. [ ~~thank you, Sweetie.]~~

The Doctor: Why don't I have a pet?

Amy: Tea's getting more and more cold by the minute. And I don't think the TARDIS can cope with any more pets.

Rory: [aside to Amy] Are you calling us p... [hurts and cries, the Ginger hits hard] Ouch! Don't strike me.

[ ~~just you wait until Mum takes hold of this~~ ]

River: Well. She has already seen all kind of wild beasts...

Rory: Who's piloting the thing?

The Doctor [sensible]: Oooh. Bad idea. Bad idea. Very, very rude. In fact worse, ungallant, ungracious, un...call her that. You can't call her like that. Amy?

Amy: No, he can't.

The Doctor: See, he can't. Amy, watch your Rory. Rory, apologise.

Rory: I'm sorry, miss. The... She's still pilotless!

The Doctor: TARDIS.

River: Who did finish the yellow palooks?

Rory: [absently to ~~me~~ the Doctor] Miss TARDIS. [to River] What ?

The Doctor: Just TARDIS.

Rory: [still disrespectfully absently to the Doctor] TARDIS. [to River] Sorry, they were _purple_ with sparkly things! _Yellow?_

River [ ~~stating the obvious~~ smug]: Well, they are called yellow palooks.

[humongous crash into space junk]

The Doctor: No! What in...

Amy: What happened? Did we crash?

River [playing innocent]: Oh no, he was just unpiloting her.

The Doctor: No, no, no! I was keeping an eye on... River! [ ~~really, Sweetie? I knew that was the cause of the accident~~ ] What did you leave your task for?

River: I thought I was nowhere near being a proper TARDIS pilot.

The Doctor: For tea! You left her for tea. Tea, you're not even from the 21st century or Earth. By the 51st, it has been replaced. How can you even want tea?

River: I'm still British – like every darn alien on this show –[ ~~what?!~~ what!?] though you should really try what the Italians will do with tea. Of all people to better it...

Amy: As if they could get any hotter.

Rory: Amy!

River [chortles]: That's the gist of it, girl!

Rory: Doctor Song! Doctor, the doctor is not the best of influences on my wife. [she really isn’t.]

River: I thought the hot Italians were old acquaintances?

Rory: What! How does she know about that?

River [ ~~singsongs.~~ River Song, I saw what you did here. but, yes, singsongs] Spoilers!

Amy: Oh. So there will be hot Italians in the future, again. After the pale sexy vampires girls, it's getting more and more fantasy-like.

The Doctor: Right! [after having expertly checked the panels and screens] She's fine. River I told you to watch the scanner, we're in a kind of a space scrapyard, there're bits of space junk everywhere.

River: Why didn't you park in the Time-vortex?

The Doctor: Because... I was busy...[ ~~wasn’t I wearing my cat suit?~~ the zipper dress.] Amy, Rory, tea's cold.

Amy: Oh no. I 'm not the one who spent five minutes babbling about puppies and crashing a _sentient_ ship. [ ~~she’s right~~ ]

Rory: Amy... If we don't do it, then nob…

Amy: Shut up. I am not his maid. [angrily and unfairly shouts in the Doctor's face] I am not your maid! Is that why you keep companions?

River [being the Mummy’s daughter she is]: Okay... We'll leave you two alone. Rory dear, _we_ take the tea.

The Doctor [ ~~whining~~ ]: But, no, what ? [footsteps fading]

Amy [assaulting]: I'm not finished ! I am here neither to serve you, nor to entertain you. Being lonely is one thing, being bored and lazy is another one.

The Doctor : I'm not laz...

Amy: I'm not finished! You are not supposed to expect anything from me apart from friendship. We are not your boys. _You two_ are mine! [ ~~Mum, when I grow up can I be you?~~ ]

The Doctor: Of course Amy, but...

Amy: You are allowed to bring me the wonders of the Universe, he is allowed to bring me the wonders of the...[River, explanation?] Forget it.

The Doctor: Amelia Pond. You're standing on thin air.

Amy: I tolerate you two flirting, even, don't think that I... I'm what?!

[broken glass in the distance]

Rory [shrieks]: Good gracious, doctor Song?

Amy [panicked]: Doctor, we are in space.

The Doctor: We seem to have lost the console room and the rest of the TARDIS. But still, [feet stampeding on glass and deep breathing], she's there, just invisible. Don't cling to me, you Scottish clinger.

Amy: But Doctor, there's no ground, no ceiling, we're in space, just _space_.

The Doctor: Calm down. [ ~~calls.~~ ~~shouts.~~ calls] Are you alright up there?

Rory: Doctor Song seems to have fainted.

The Doctor [to himself]: Ooh, that's a new one.

[I’m still waiting for River’s explanation and she is ignoring me]

River [coming back to her senses]: But we're alright. I'm okay. I just had the scare of my life.

The Doctor: Interesting. [mocking her] Terrified of having your insides bubbled up by the low pressure, Doctor Song?

River [mumbles]: Something like that.

Amy [whispers to the Doctor]: Is it really what happens when you are in space without protection or airlock.

The Doctor: Erm, technically, yes. But we are still inside the TARDIS. No need to worry.

Rory [from afar]: Doctor, it's a bit difficult to find the door. Ouch.

River: Careful. I think there was a bowl of... [clatters and curses] ...custard. Sorry.

Rory: Wonderful. Now I smell of cream.

Amy [shouts]: We can let the Doctor lick you.

The Doctor [cries indignantly]: Amy!

River [closer]: There you are! [pats the wall] What happened here, did we damage something?

[steps coming down the metal staircase]

The Doctor: You'll have to pay for the custard.

River: I wasn't talking to you. Anyway, I _never_ have to pay for the custard.

Rory: If it is another metaphor for “Been there, done him”, we really don’t need to know that.

Amy: Mmm, it’s not exactly as if I am asking you to ruin my childhood, but what do you mean, doctor S…

The Doctor [ ~~blissfully oblivious.~~ not anymore, you]: Right. She must have been hit near the chameleon circuit. She's invisible, but on the inside.

Rory: Does that mean _we_ are invisible to the outside?

Amy: That would be odd, four people standing in space, floating.

River: Sounds like a Beatles’ song to me, 'four people standing in space'.

Rory: One of them covered in custard...

River: [low chuckle] Rory dear...

Rory: Don’t!

The Doctor: I think we can all make it better by flipping [lever pulled, buttons on the TARDIS console pushed, ~~temporal fibrillator activated.~~ ~~if it had been deactivated like it should, we would not have crashed in the first place.~~ ~~River, you cannot insult my driving here~~ ], there, maybe, no. Perhaps ?

[whoosh sound]

River: [loudly, to cover the noise] That’s the air extractor.

Amy & Rory: What?!

The Doctor: [pushes other buttons, the extraction stops, 60s hawaian slow music plays]. No, not that one. Why are you even beginning to dance you two. [River chortles. ~~did not!~~ ] In the name of Rassillon. River, I can't see the console, it's not that easy. Where is the...

[music stops, faint whistles and patting]

Amy: Bunnies!

Rory: Why are rabbits suddenly sprouting from the invisible ground?

River [snorts inelegantly]

Amy & Rory: Don't even think about going there.

The Doctor: [pushing buttons. ~~without a clue~~ ] Go where? We're in space. Aha! There.

[the rabbits are obviously still there. Electric buzzing]

Amy: Is that? [clicking of a juke box and ~~some human noise~~ Hot Stuff starts playing]

Rory: No, really? Neons and disco lamp? What were you doing during the 70s? I’m curious.

River: [laughing] Look at him.

Amy & Rory [Gasp]

The Doctor [scolding]: No, really, Sexy, you can’t dress me up like that, this is, this is... You're not even paying attention to the buttons I push; you're just making fun of me! [ ~~hint: she was~~ ]

Amy [purring]: Doctor, what those pants are doing for your arse...

Rory [not even singing. that’s your father for you. I’ll have you know he has a very fine voice]: Looking for some hot stuff...

The Doctor: No, no, Sexy, please, undress me now!

River: For God's sake, don't ask like that. [bursts into laughter]

[the music changes]

Amy: Are the rabbits starting to dance to … Oh yes, Rasputin!

The Doctor: I'll have you know these are Rhosgobel rabbits, you watch them.

Rory [hey-heying along. ~~I’m not sure this is a proper direction~~. can I finish my story, please?]

River: [now crying with laughter, she was, but with a fine singing voice. thank you, Sweetie] Ra, Ra, Rotmeister, lover of the british queens, there was a cat that really was gone. Te, Te, Theta Sigma, earth's greatest love machine, it was a shame how he carried on.

The Doctor: [high-pitched] River!

Amy: Considering the number of companions you had...

Rory: Did he? [still hey-heying].

Amy: Look at the rabbits! How can they do that?

The Doctor: River, fix it. Do something!

River [hiccupping]: You're doing _wunderbar_.

Rory: God, it feels so good to dance. Do you realise we haven't been in a nightclub for months ?

Amy: We had space Vampires. Do you really want to dance when he offered us Space Orient Express? With River?

Rory: [pause] Yes. Rather.

The Doctor [bruised and battered, pleading]: Someone, please. Sexy?

River: You should try Mos Eisley on Tatooine, their bars are insane. It's like 1920's Berlin, with more scoundrels and scums you could ever dream of. The drinks, good God, setting fire to your inside while massaging your scalp. An the hypest bands in the galaxy drop in to play incognito, because the atmosphere is so dangerous and electric, The Butlers, Mouse, The Strugglers, Paddy Smith, Burbage...

Amy: Okay.

[power comes back, music stops, the rabbits are nowhere to be heard, that ship is a naughty thing]

The Doctor: What?! Sexy, you must be kidding!

 

The end.

 

The BBC Radio 4 head of the comedy department raised an eyebrow.

“You have to be kidding.” Her eyes went up from the oddly overcorrected typed script to the grinning young man standing before her, floppy brown hair and twinkling eyes, wrapped in the silliest imitation of a grade school teacher. Too bad, he had a certain undeniable charm to him, but far, far too batty. He had a bow tie on.

“Correct me if I wrong but you just offered me a program about the most incompetent crew ever to grace the sky.” She paused for effect, or bafflement, she did not know any more. “And they are flying an intelligent ship.”

The young man started nodding appreciatively, before taking the full measure of what had been said, and lifted an inquiring finger she forestalled.

“How on earth did you manage to get in here anyway?”

Without as much as a warning, the young man whipped out of his pocket with a wide and hazardous movement a piece of paper.

“My recommendations.”

The woman narrowed her eyes with mild bewilderment twitching her mouth.

“The Queen of Denmark, I’m impressed.” She was. She just was a gazillion times more dumbfounded. Was this a gag from the staff? “Though I really don’t see how she has anything to do with our audio comedy programing.” She brandished the batch, willing to get to the bottom of this. “Did you write this?”

“No, actually it’s my ship. She decided to record our conversations and then printed it.” He leant in, hands held before his face in confidence. “I added the stage directions. Don’t tell her. I thought it was really confusing without…”

“Without?!”

The bowtied young man nodded, deadly serious. “And the actors would have turned it into utter nonsense.”

“You want it played?” Her eyebrows had completely disappeared under her fringe.

“Naturally, I thought it would please her, you know, a little token of my affection.” He giggled and proudly straightened the lapels of his jacket, almost smug. Was he talking about a boat? “Half a millennium of roaming the universe with an old man. Gotta keep the flame alive.”

His face was alight with genuine childishness. And she nearly softened, ready to give this young, a bit nutty, author a chance and offer him the help of a pro, like Finnemore. Surely Finnemore would find something to exploit in this… pandemonium of a script. After a ridiculous ballet between the back of his head and pockets –he was concealing there what looked like a Verne-inspired Art Deco whisk-, his hands flailed up and scratched his prominent chin.

“Of course, I would be lying if I do not confess it is also an incentive to keep her from not letting the Ponds listen to England, Earth, stations when they are in the bathroom. Rory cut his face while shaving when he heard for the first time the latest single from Laddida Ybsch, the great Osirian songstress. Well, latest, you know, time travel…”

She blanked.

“No, I don’t.”

“Actually I had some ideas about who could play whom; there was this tall chap, curly-haired, who played Van Go…”

And on cue, in walked a curly haired amazon; someone out of a Mucha painting, rather tall and shapely. But the hair... The hair meant the kids definitely had slipped some drug in her coffee.

“Sweetie, can we go now?” She sang, with a hint of exasperation in the voice. “There is a writer who is starting to be a little too insistent about having me play a lipstick lesbian. Thank God I did not tell him I am an archaeologist.” Her hands settled comfortably on his shoulders and he turned his head to her, a fond smile on the lips.

“You love that. Don’t you?”

She shrugged, crinkling her nose.

“Maybe a little.” The smile responding to his was ridiculously attractive and ridiculously directed at him.

From the hall rang a loud Scottish voice.

“Doctor! You said a minute and then we would go to the pub. Twas obvious no one would be interested in that story.”

A stunning ginger strutted in, mini skirt and leather jacket, followed by a sandy-haired man in jeans. The ginger charged into the young writer and grabbed his sleeve, with ferocity. He battled her away, gesturing at the boss everybody seemed to have forgotten.

“Yeah, Amy I have more serious things to do than roaming the streets in search of a perfect pub to…”

The other young man stepped into the circle after having squeezed the elbow of the curly-haired woman.

“Ah. You said you would make up for breaking up in the middle of my stag party.” He said, composed. “And not asking my permission to marry my daughter.” He pulled off a convincing I-am-not-trying-to-threaten-you smile.

“You didn’t know she was at the time”, the bowtied one scoffed.

“I was talking about the second time…” The sandy one pointedly looked at his… son-in-law.

 _I need a drink_ , she thought.

“You were too busy enjoying the sugar-free honey cascade and chocolate dolphins!” Bowtied brunette looked like a five-year old.

“That was the thirteenth time”, Sandy one stressed. “Anyway, drinks!”

“And girls”, purred the curly-haired woman, whose arm had been slowly snaking around the young bowtied man’s waist.

“We are definitely not girls”, roared the ginger, elbowing the curly blonde.

“Okay, okay.” The young man sounded defeated; he fumbled, putting back on her desk her timer, which she had not seen him dismember. He mouthed a sorry before clasping her hands together –script included- and shaking awkwardly the bunch. “Sorry for keeping you so long. Keep the piece. Find a title.” He swirled just before her nose, his jacket flapping her and boomed, positively petulant: “Family outing then!”

He grabbed the Curly’s waist, wrapped his other arm over the Ginger’s shoulders whose little finger was already nestled in the Sandy’s hand.

“That reminds me”, the Ginger exclaimed, mischievous. “River, you never told me about that thing with the custard…” 

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, the head of the comedy department is a complete invention.


End file.
